The Children by Lucy Kirkwood, a play
I read Lucy Kirkwood’s 2016 play The Children about the aftermath of a Fukushima-like nuclear disaster in coastal England this past week, August 21-22/2026. I have gotten into reading plays in the last several months which are a different experience for me than reading novels and short stories. I like plays because the main content is dialogue without the other narrative description of circumstances surrounding the characters actions.
The Children has only three characters in their 60s who have been friends and colleagues most of their adult lives who have reunited after several years of separation at a cottage owned by Hazel and Robin a few miles up the coast from a nuclear generating facility which has exploded at which they both, nuclear engineers, built and worked several decades ago. An old friend, Rose, comes to visit with a special request that only becomes apparent as the visit progresses.
Spoiler alert.
What ensues is the plan that Rose has to go to the contaminated reactor and work to stabilize it exposing herself to toxic radiation so the young people there can leave. Rose needs 20 people to help her staff the project and she wants Hazel and Robin to join her team.
Rose’s plan raises many moral questions and quandaries:
The first is intergenerational responsibility and moral debt. What do older generations owe to those who follow. The characters—Hazel, Robin, and Rose—are retired nuclear engineers who helped design the flawed power plant. Rose’s arrival forces them to face a harrowing question: is it acceptable to let younger workers risk their health to clean up a mess created by their elders? The play argues that adulthood requires taking accountability for the systems we build and benefit from, rather than leaving the fallout for our descendants.
The second quandary is maintenance of domestic normalcy amid crisis Throughout the play, Hazel obsessively clings to routine—doing yoga, eating healthy, drinking tea—despite living just outside the exclusion zone on a decaying coastline. Kirkwood uses this to critique psychological denial. The play demonstrates how easily people distract themselves with minor, controllable habits to avoid confronting massive, existential disasters.
The third question is about sacrifice as a meaningful end to life. Rose proposes replacing the younger nuclear engineers at the plant because, as retirees, their remaining lifespan minimizes the long-term impact of radiation exposure. Through this choice, the narrative reframes aging and mortality. Sacrificing comfort or life expectancy in one's later years becomes an active, noble responsibility rather than a tragic loss, emphasizing that living meaningfully matters more than simply living long.
The fourth quandary is privilege and climate reality. The setting—a shrinking cottage threatened by rising sea levels and toxic waste—serves as a microcosm for global environmental collapse. The play highlights how post-war prosperity rested on consumption and technology without adequate consideration for long-term waste or ecological limits.
This play might be a great resource for a group discussion of the questions and quandaries and others described above.
If anyone would like to come to a onetime online discussion group for 90 minutes to discuss the ideas in this play with me, please send me an email at davidgmarkham@gmail.com.
